TwoStep
by RogueRobin
Summary: After a long break-up Remy is back in town. Even though he has convinced himself that he doesn't love Rogue he can't seem to leave her well enough alone and tries to reconcile their friendship and eventually relationship.
1. Chapter 1

The vase shattered with a satisfying crash, but it did little to ease Remy's temper. He tore through the room knocking books from shelves, scattering make up, breaking chairs, and even pulling the drawers out of the dresser. Without a thought he flipped the mattress with a grunt and froze. A picture nested on the box spring near the headboard. He dazedly shuffled closer to the photo gingerly lifting it from its resting place. A hot lump rose in his throat but soon passed. He was in the picture with his arm resting around the shoulders of the other person in the photo. He didn't want to think about the white-banged woman in the photo beside him.

He found himself seated on the edge of the box spring taking a better look at the photo. He recognized that coat. That was the time they went skiing. Remy shook his head, boy was he glad they hadn't taken a repeat trip. He would have liked to bask in the memory however cold and uncomfortable it had been, but footsteps coming up the stairs hurried him out of the room.

"Sorry chère, but ya won' be seein' Gambit t'day." He let the picture fall to the ground, hesitated, and ran for the window. He swung easily over the balcony rail and made for the fence without a glance back. Once he knew he was out of sight he slowed down to a walk and made for the apartment he'd decided to take up residence in. It was a bit small for his tastes and the view really could have been better, but it wasn't bad considering the fact that it was free. He hadn't exactly told the landlord that he was moving in.

"Good t'ing, Wolverine's out, " he thought to himself as made his way up the fire escape. His mood lightened considerably when he saw that he still had an apartment for the day. He lifted the window sighing as its wooden frame stuck. He'd have to fight with it again.

"Jus' not Gambit's day…" Remy tried to lower the window back down, but the heat-swollen wood refused to budge. It earned a glare from the Cajun. He grumbled to himself about the heat and slid back down the fire escape. He'd try again later. He was so pleased about the idea of messing her day up, even just a little bit, that he wouldn't have felt at all out of place skipping down the street. He did have a song in his heart after all. He might have even started whistling Dixie, but he was stopped in his tracks by a familiar voice.

"Humph, like I thought you might, like be hiding out around here. Like, what are you trying to prove Gambit?" Kitty's arms were crossed and she was walking toward him with purpose. Remy felt nailed to the spot. If Kitty Pryde of all people could find him so easily he would have to find a new hide out, and fast.

"Ah, mon chère…how is it dat ya found Gambit so easy?" He held his hands out in a weak attempt to placate the brunette. He took a step back.

"Do you like, think I'm stupid? I know where you hide out. Like, stay out of her life." Gambit could have sworn that he heard her hiss. It was time to go before she made a scene.

"Gambit dôn t'ink dat. How 'bout Gambit goes and we dôn t'ink about it anymo'? " He was sure that she would drop it at that. When they'd been around each other in the past she'd never argued with him. The right hook caught him off-guard. Remy toppled to the ground at the unexpected blow. It surprised him more that it hurt, but that didn't stop him from rubbing his cheek gingerly. "Fils de pute," he murmured.

"Like, if you don't fix things with Rogue, then you totally need to leave, and like, I took French. I know what you just said." Despite the light throbbing in his jaw Kitty could not pull off being threatening. Still, he decided that it would be better for him to just play along for now. It wasn't like Kitty would believe his side of the story anyway. He scrambled to his feet.

"Alrigh' Alrigh' Gambit's leavin'. Dôn ya worry." Before she could say another word, or take another swing, Remy was behind her and in the air. He caught the bottom rung of the fire escape with ease and hauled himself onto the landing. Within moments he was on top of the building and out of sight.

He'd stopped at a café to get some lunch and then clambered back onto the roof of the apartment building. Once he was over the shock of Kitty's temper tantrum he'd had the good sense to be indignant about the treatment. Who did that little valley girl think she was? He was the king of hearts, and no one treated him like that. He adjusted on his rooftop perch and took a bite of his sub chewing thoughtfully. It would serve her right if he stole her whole wardrobe. That would be a good one. He let the image of Kitty staring into an empty closet linger in his mind. There was no doubt in his mind that Rogue would hold his little stunt against him the next time they talked…if they talked. Remy stared into the sub as though it were an important manual. It wasn't his fault that Rogue had the single worst power that he'd ever known, and it wasn't his fault that he had fallen in love with her. He took a drink of his tea. Besides, he reasoned, he was probably only interested because she was exactly what he couldn't have. He'd done her a favour by breaking it off and skipping town. Still, he missed her. Hell, he missed their fights. There weren't many people that could hold their own against him in an argument.

His memories kept him company until the sky began to darken. He left his cup and sub wrapper on the roof and slipped back down to his apartment. The evening had cooled the frame. Remy was able to open it without too much hassle. He ducked through the window and surveyed his room. A sleeping bag was unrolled on the floor. A bag of clothes served as a pillow. Other than a chair that he'd found on the side of the road there was no other furnishing. His cell phone screen was green. Finally charged. He unplugged the phone and the charger slipping the charger into the bag of clothes. He took another look around before leaving the room. He swung down from the fire escape ladder once again.

The walk to the institute was a familiar one. Remy was sure that he could have made it with his eyes closed in a wheel chair. What if she was in her room? He would have to be careful to stay out of sight now that she knew he was back in town. He didn't doubt that most of the other students knew about the incident, and it wouldn't surprise him if they had the security grid set on high. His suspicions were confirmed when he arrived. Not that they would be much of a problem. He'd broken into higher security places before, though not many. It was only a hop, skip, and a pole vault to Rogue's window. No problem.

"Nuttin' Gambit can' handle," he said to himself as he adjusted in the tree near her window. It had been useful when they had started seeing each other, but now it served as a convenient place to spy on his ex. She had picked up the vase and most the room seemed to be intact. He didn't remember breaking the mirror. It was in the realm of possibility. Of course he knew that Rogue was just as likely of a culprit after what he'd done today. She was in bed already. A book rested in her lap. She had read a lot back then too. He felt something sticking in his throat. Remy felt like a fool. There she was looking so composed while he hid in a tree on the verge of tears. He wanted to go to her balcony and knock on the window. Wanted to hold her again and breathe in her scent.

"Mais chère…ya always was my jolie catin," he said to the air. He couldn't keep looking at her. As far as he was concerned there was only one viable option. He ventured a bit closer to the window. She didn't notice the movement in the dark. Swallowing back his nervousness Remy lifted his hand to the window and knocked once on the large window.


	2. Chapter 2

Remy looked at his hand as if it had betrayed him. He hated when his body made up his mind for him. Rogue's attention was focused completely on the window, and Remy quickly decided that he was _not_ a fan of that expression. He managed a small smile. Her glare only gained intensity. _"Dis…dis is no good," _he thought grimly. He backpedaled away from the window. If looks were anything to go by the last thing that he wanted to be was in arm's reach. He left stayed far enough away that she could hit him with anything that she didn't throw. The window shuddered as it was ripped open. Even when she was angry she looked beautiful, though some of the charm _was_ lost since it was directed at him.

"Good ta see ya beb," Remy said kindly keeping as much of the tree between them as he dared. "Gambit was jus passin' by and-"

"Ah coulda swore Ah told yah not ta come 'round here no more," she said petulantly. She wasn't yelling yet. That was a good sign.

"Chère, Gambit knows dat ya dôn mean dat. Ya know dat he cares abou-"

"If ya'll care so much then what're yah doin' here?" She crossed her arms. Remy could tell that things were not going in his favor. He leaned into his palm. There was no safe answer for that and he knew it.

"Jus' give Gambit-"

"Tha' is enough a yah talkin' lack that Remy! Ah know who yah are." Remy kept eye contact. _"Merde, dis is not workin'…" _

"Ya know dat G-…Ya know dat Re- Fils de pute! Talkin' like dis ain't easy Rogue. What ya saw, dat udder girl. Nothin' was gonna happen." He lied and tried to explain how he'd met the girl at a bar, and that she'd spilled something on her shirt. "Dat was why she was dere…an' dat's why she didn' have no shirt on." In truth he'd meant to have some fun, but he'd thought better of it. It was the first time that he didn't follow through with another woman while he and Rogue were together. As luck would have it that was also when Rogue had decided to visit. Remy still wasn't exactly sure how he'd dodged the plate that she'd thrown at him.

"That's a la if ah ever did hear one. How many otha' girls were there before tha' one?" Her hands strangled the window frame.

"Ya know dat he would neva," he couldn't keep eye contact, "do dat ta ya chère." He leaned closer to the window. "Ya gotta believe me."

"Ah don't gotta do a thing yah damn liar, now git outta mah life," she slammed the window shut with a clatter. At first Remy was sure that the glass would break from the force. He edge closer only to have the heavy curtains drawn shut in front of his face.

"Roguey, dôn be like dat," he pleaded, but he received no response. He toyed with the idea of breaking it open and forcing her to talk to him. The scene played out very well in his head. He would stand amid the shattered glass. She would turn to face him, and she'd try to be angry, but then she would forgive him. Everything would go back to normal after that and he'd be able to sleep again. Then reality kicked in. If he actually tried it he knew that he'd be hard pressed not to get a chipped tooth at the very least. "Mebbe Gambit should'a given her mo time ta calm down," he murmured shaking his head. He had no intent of giving up. After all Remy LeBeau got what Remy LeBeau wanted even if it meant he had to work for it.

He turned from the window and slipped to the ground. His toes had only barely brushed the ground when it hit him with a snarl. He rolled with his assailant before kicking himself free from the crushing grip. He danced away while his eyes searched for his attacker. Nothing. He was sure that _something _was there. The question was, where were they? He started for the fence while keeping as good of watch as he could. He heard movement in the tree above him and rolled out of the way. He clambered to his feet and instantly recognized the other person as Wolverine. _"Merde, Gambit's day jus' gets better 'n better," he thought._

"Where do you think you're going Cajun?" Wolverine's voice was as gruff and hostile as he'd remembered it. He knew he could hold his own against the man, but he really didn't want to fight. Rogue's rejection was beginning to register in his mind.

"Moi? Gambit was jus' leavin'. Nice ta see ya too Wolverine," he said casually.

"Listen bub, I've been nice so far. I told you not to come back, but here you are. I think it's about time you had a lesson." Remy felt goose bumps rise on his arms when he heard the tell-tale snnk of Wolverine's claws extending. He held up his hands.

"Let's say dat Gambit didn' come back, hein? Gambit'll go an' ya won' have ta see him again." Remy could feel his blood pumping in his ears. As much as he wasn't looking forward to fighting Logan…again, he could not help but be excited by the idea of a fight.

"Let's say I escort you," Wolverine said with a grim smile. He charged Gambit who easily dodged the attack. If he was smart he would have run away, but his ego easily overpowered common sense. He slipped his bo staff from its pouch on his hip and swung for Wolverine's back. He made contact, but it did little to faze the big man. Logan swung around and lunged at Remy again feigning and striking. The blow tore Remy's trench coat. Remy brought his staff down hard on Logan's head.

"Gambit can see himself out. Doncha worry 'bout dat." He said making a break for the fence. He was halfway over when he was unceremoniously dragged from the fence by his ankle. Wolverine had recovered more quickly than he'd anticipated. Before Remy could get up he found himself propelled through the air. He hit the sidewalk hard. He was as slow to sit up as he was to register what exactly had happened. He'd actually been _thrown _out. Remy stood and re-evaluated the height of the fence. He's sorely misjudged Wolverine's strength. _"Good ting he was feelin' generous,"_ Remy thought.

He'd take being thrown out over being cut up any day. He rubbed his shoulder and felt his the material of his shirt. The hole was that big? He jogged to the nearest streetlight and shrugged his trench off to inspect the damage. His left sleeve was in tatters. He turned the coat in the light. The seam that connected the shoulder would have to be repaired at the very least, but the coat was leather. He grimaced. He'd have to get a new sleeve or a whole new coat. "Mon dieu, he's gonna get the bill fo dis. Eh?" Remy tilted his head. Was that a stain on the shoulder? He gingerly touched the spot. It easily wiped off. He lifted his hand to the light and realized that it was wet and red. He looked at his arm and noticed the tears in the fabric and the small streams of blood that ran down his arm. Almost on cue the injury began to throb with pain. Wolverine had actually cut him. It'd been a long time since that had happened. Remy made a face and turned his head to get a better look at the wound.

Three cuts about a quarter of an inch deep decorated his upper arm. Soft pink tissue made itself visible where the blood didn't cover. He pushed at the edge of the lowest cut only to be rewarded with more blood and a stab of discomfort.

"Dass gonna need a band-aid," he joked to himself. He'd need a few butterfly stitches and some peroxide, but he didn't think it was bad enough to warrant stitches. He looked from his arm, to his coat, to the Xavier Institute in the distance and back to his coat. For a moment he wasn't sure if he was more upset about Rogue or his coat. He started in the direction of a the nearby 24-hour store, and by the time he got there he found himself wishing that he was more upset over his coat.

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><p>I am so slow at typing out dialogue you don't even know.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Heyo guys, sorry for being that person that never updates for awhile there. I've been having issues with classes and moving and this story deciding that we need to change things that I didn't know we were changing, and ugh. I know, excuses excuses, right? Anyway, we'll be switching POVs early on in this chapter on account of Remy being uncooperative with me and Rogue wanting to defend herself and the poor miserable Cajun. Anyway, happy reading!

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><p>"It jus' na' righ'. No way a filly 'ave Gambit asking ta come back," Remy muttered to himself. But he would. He knew that he would if she'd just talk to him. If he thought she might forgive him. He sent an innocent stone skittering off into the bushes. Normally he'd be the one calling the shots on who was staying and who was leaving, but somewhere along the way Rogue had changed him.<p>

_"Mon dieu, if tha fellas could be seein' me now,"_ he thought. Any one of the boys in The Guild would bust a gut at the idea of Remy LeBeau the "King of Hearts" that dashing "Prince of Thieves" getting upset over a girl like this. His pride hurt, but not as much as the rapidly healing wounds that Logan had left him with, and not nearly as much as the venomous rejection he'd received from Rogue. So Gambit did the only thing he could think to do. He'd just have to wait it out and apologize when she was ready to listen. The only bad thing about that particular plan was that it would most likely force him to crash with the Brotherhood boys for however long it took her to calm down and stop being so made at him.

…

A steady knocking was coming from the other side of the room. It was most certainly someone in the hallway, and that someone certainly had little care for the sanctity of Rogue's weekend sleeping schedule. She cracked an eye open. The clock read 10:17 am. She groaned. Whoever it was would only be spared if they had absolutely _zero_ idea that she was not a morning person. Giving to the fact that she was pretty sure that most of the city knew that she was not cut out for mornings she settled on the idea that said person that was _still_ knocking on the door had a death wish, was an idiot, or both.

"Wha'd'ya wahnt?" She drawled heaving herself into something resembling a sitting position.

"Rogue, are you in zere?" Kurt sing-songed from the other side of the door. So it was an idiot. A well meaning loveable idiot who would only ever sort of annoy her in the worst case scenario of most circumstances. Most.

"Yeah, Ah'm in here," she said a more loudly untangling herself from her blankets and starting toward the door. _"Blue boy yah are so lucky that Ah got ta bed early," _she thought to herself. The door handle was cool as she twisted it open. There was her brother tittering by the door looking far too chipper for the both of them. The sooner she figured out what he wanted the sooner she could go back to bed. "What d'ya wahnt Kurt?" she asked in a tone bordering on desperate.

"Vell, I vas outside and zis vas zere for you," he said handing her a box and a glass vase full of flowers. With that he was gone in a puff of ever so foul smoke. At least he'd had the sense to leave instead of wanting to snoop.

Rogue shook her head allowing a smirk to play on her face. He really was a goofball. She pushed the door closed with her foot while eyeing the flowers and the package in her hand. She had a fair idea who they were from. She set the box down on the edge of her bed a pulled the note from the center of the flowers. The handwriting on the scrap of paper would have been enough to make an elementary school teacher reconsider the amount of time spent in penmanship classes, and while it was wholly illegible it bore no resemblance to the old flowing writing that seemed to embody every historical document that had ever been shoved in her face in a history class.

Chere,

Tell me when you're ready to talk.

I'll let you be.

There was no signature, and there didn't have to be. She nearly threw the vase across the room. It would serve him right for breaking the vase that had housed the last bouquet he'd sent her when he broke in. Instead she took a deep breath and set the vase down on her dresser. After the last vase and the broken glass from her old picture frame she was fed up with broken glass. As it was she was still finding slivers with her feet in the mornings. It was just like him to try to play sweet after he messed up. She wondered how many other girls he'd done this to before her.

Rogue turned back toward her bed completely unconvinced that she would be able to sleep again when her eyes settled on the box she'd set down only minutes earlier. She'd forgotten about it. For awhile she stared at it like it might sprout legs and run around the room making weird little troll sounds. After the thought passed she weighed whether or not she should even open the thing up. Couldn't he just let her stay mad at him? With two quick steps she found herself perched on the edge of her bed beside it. If the box could have seen the look she was giving it she was pretty sure that it would start apologizing. She imagined the little boxy things it might say and caught herself.

"Whoa there. That's plenty a' crazy for taday," she muttered picking it up. The box was light for its size and she could feel at least one something shift inside. She sighed. _"The things Ah do for that Cajun,"_ she thought pulling off the pieces of scotch tape securing the lid. A king of hearts lay face up with small note that said, "He's lost his queen too." That card, at least, was unexpected. Any time he'd brought up cards or played with them around her she always somehow ended up with the queen. But the thing that really caught her attention in the box was a necklace of Mardi Gras beads. She smiled in spite of herself at the memory. Sure, they weren't always fighting, and when he wanted to be he could be downright charming. She opened her nightstand and put the recently homeless picture of the day they'd all gone skiing into the box before shutting the lid and setting the box and its contents into the drawer. She sat in bed awake, but unwilling to go down and deal with the only barely controlled chaos of Xavier's School. Instead she stared at the roses on her dresser until the morning sun turned its focus to other part of her room.

By the time she finally left her room the day was well on its way to one in the afternoon. She took a quick shower, and after hearing nothing but chatter even under the spray she decided that a walk would be a better plan than staying inside all day. She wasn't especially keen on dealing with the mess that would no doubt be taking up the kitchen. By the time she was dressed she was sure that she'd hear no fewer than five dishes break, and by the time she'd gotten back to her room she'd run into at least five of her housemates. Rogue locked the bedroom door behind her before sitting down to put her make-up on and brush her still wet hair. Cabin fever would be an understatement for her if she stuck around much longer, and she was pretty sure that Professor X would rather her not get into a fight with someone…again. She grimaced at the thought of it. Cleaning the bathrooms had not been worth socking Berserker over his comments on her make-up.

When she deemed her hair and makeup acceptable she swung down from her balcony onto the tree branch that Gambit had used and easily dropped to the ground. A breeze tugged at her hair picking it up and pushing it back in her face. It gave her the feeling of walking into cobwebs if she focused on it too much. The grounds were clear, clean, and green as always. She didn't want to consider the sort of lawn care it took to keep covering up the torn up flowers and grass from the teens that were more rowdy than herself. Off behind the house she could hear a couple of the boys shouting, and she was close to certain that they were playing some sort of sport that would eventually involve damage to themselves, the property, or a tree. It wasn't long before their voices faded away as she neared the front gate.

"_Hmm, maybe Ah'll get mahself some coffee and bagel before too much walkin'," _she thought as her stomach garbled at her. Some food certainly wouldn't hurt, and then she'd be able to stay out longer before coming back home. She glanced back in time to see one of the boys careen headfirst into the fountain. That sealed it. Some time with her thoughts before Kitty came home and saw the flowers wouldn't do her any harm at all.


End file.
